his hand landed on me. It held my cheek as his thumb pulled at my lip—I hadn’t even realized I had been chewing on it—and he freed it from my teeth. “What I’m thinking about is your mouth.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip and then the top. “What it would taste like. What it would feel like.” His gaze was there, on the spot he was speaking about, making those same lips part. “And I don’t know how much longer I can wait to find out.”
